Save the Last Dance
by Bellantara
Summary: Sven stands on the sidelines of a royal ball, watching Romelle and her would-be suitors. How can he make her see what she does to him?


Sven pulled at his unfamiliar dress uniform as he stood at the side of the ballroom, eyes constantly following the tiny blonde Princess of Pollux as she laughed, danced, and charmed her way through the dozens of prospective suitors that swarmed around her. Rationally, of course, he knew it was all an act; while it wasn't on her finger at the moment, Romelle did have his engagement ring. But they hadn't announced their engagement yet, and her Council was adamant that she had to at least give the appearance of being open to an alliance marriage until they did. Rationally, he knew all this. But the primal Viking inside him roared more with each dance his _elske_ gave to another, with each laugh or smile bestowed on a man not worthy to even look at her. She was _his_, by all the gods, and he finally snapped, his need to claim her trumping his orders to not make a scene. With the last remaining thread of his rational mind, he managed not to storm onto the dance floor and yank her away from the fawning princes. Instead, he turned to the music system, putting in a request before straightening his medals and making his way over to her.

Romelle was sick of the posturing sissy boys around her. _None of them are worth a tenth of my Viking prince, _she thought sadly behind a brilliant smile, laughing at yet another inane comment. _Why did we ever come back here? We would have been welcome on Arus. Bad as things were on Doom, we were happier there than we've been here._ Still, if she were honest, she had to admit she liked the attention. Sven, for all his devotion to her, never danced with her, claiming the movements stressed his damaged back. And while she knew he wasn't lying, she also knew the truth was the Norwegian pilot was shy, and had an aversion to anything that put him in a spotlight. So, he never danced with her, though he knew how much she liked it. _So, I let a few princes think they stand a chance with me. No harm in that._

The music stopped, and Romelle was startled to see the princes backing away from her, watching someone approach her from behind. Curious, she turned, only to have her mouth go completely dry at the sight of Sven, resplendent in his Garrison whites and every inch the hero she knew he was. "Princess Romelle," he said in his quiet, accented voice, bowing and kissing the hand she extended to him. "May I haf dis dance?" Stunned, she could only nod, stepping forward as his left hand tightened on her right, and his right hand spread over her shoulder blade. To her surprise, he deftly guided her into a hip-swinging dance that flowed with the hypnotic rhythm of the song, looking down at her with his heart in his eyes.

Just when she thought she couldn't be any more surprised, Sven started singing with the music in a soft baritone, eyes never leaving hers. "'You can dance, every dance with the guy who give you the eye, let him hold you tight. You can smile, every smile for the man who held your hand 'neath the pale moonlight. But don't forget who's taking you home, and in whose arms you're gonna be, so darling, save the last dance for me. '" She gasped; he smiled at her and swung her away from him then back into his arms, holding her close and swaying with her. "'Baby, don't you know, I love you so, can't you feel it when we touch? I will never, ever let you go, I love you oh so much. . .'" She was lost in his blue eyes as he whispered, "Romelle, _min kjaerlighet_, my love, dis is killing me. Please, I cannot vatch you vit all dese oder men any more."

Tears welled up in her eyes at the pain in the normally stoic navigator's words. "Oh, Sven, I'm so sorry," she breathed. "I never guessed what this was doing to you; it ends now. Tonight." She curtsied to him as the song ended; he bowed in return, eyes still holding hers. "Thank you, gentlemen, for your attendance tonight." Romelle turned to face the watching princes, hand still clasped in Sven's rougher one. "I have to confess that I have done you all, and Commander Holgersson, a disservice based on well-meant advice."

The princes exchanged glances, and one of the more powerful ones stepped forward. "You don't have to say anything more, Highness. We all watched that dance, and it's very clear that you aren't available for any kind of. . . personal alliance." As one, the princes bowed to Sven. "Congratulations, Commander. She is a very special lady, to have won such devotion from a man like yourself."

"Dat she is," Sven answered quietly. Too quietly; Romelle glanced up and saw how pale he'd gotten.

"Gentlemen, if you will excuse us, my intended and I need to discuss some things privately. Please, enjoy your evening." She slipped her hand up Sven's arm, tucking it into the crook of his elbow, and guided him out of the ballroom. "You shouldn't have danced," she scolded gently as she led him to his room. "You know how it makes your back hurt."

Sven gave her a crooked smile as he peeled off his tunic and collapsed on his bed. "Ja, I do. But I realized. . .it hurt vorse, vatching dose oder men vit you, tinking dey could haf you. Und besides. . . it is not fair to you, vhen you luf to dance so, for me to refuse." He watched as Romelle pulled his boots off, then rolled onto his stomach with a groan.

"Here, take your medication," the princess said softly, holding the hated pills out with a glass of water.

Sven swallowed them without complaint, then took her hand in his. "Stay vit me tonight? Please? I. . .miss hafing you close."

Romelle hesitated, then reminded herself she was a woman grown, and had shared blankets and more with Sven, _her fiancé_, on Doom for months. "Of course. Do you need me to help you change before I go get my things?" The Norwegian slowly shook his head, sitting up as she left the room. Ten minutes later, she was back, dressed in one of his tshirts and her engagement ring. Sven had curled up under the covers and was clearly feeling the effects of his pain meds, but held an arm out to her groggily. "I'm here," she said softly, crawling into his arms and cradling his head to her chest. "Rest now; I'll always be here. I love you, Sven."


End file.
